Cherished Memories
by The Nerdfighter
Summary: In which Master Splinter looks fondly upon the growing family his sons continue to develop. A cute little one-shot dedicated to the 30 year anniversary of the TMNT. 2k12 based.


**Just a short little one-shot in honor of the 30 year anniversary for our favorite butt-kicking Ninja Turtles. I hope I did alright, because even though this fic was only like three pages long on Microsoft Word, it was still a butt to write, so I hope everything came out okay. **

**It has mentions of the 2k12 series as far as side characters are concerned, but this fic is totally non-canon seeing as I'm not too knowledgeable in the comic adaptations of the Ninja Turtles. Plus, I wanted to write something sweet about their future, so this is my interpretation. **

**Hope you all like it and let me know what you think. :) Enjoy.**

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Master Splinter could feel the drowsiness take over his brittle bones, his eyelids drooping heavily until he snapped himself back awake. Sitting comfortably against the cushions of his easy chair, he admired the scene unfurling before him, sounds of laughter and merriment filtering though his eardrums. It was a blessing he so fondly cherished along with many others as he silently bestowed his thanks being able to live long enough to celebrate another year. After all, neither he nor his sons were getting any younger and although it was a morbid thought to think about what little time he had left to spend with his growing family, Master Splinter couldn't help but be thankful for the construction of the lineage that surrounded him in Donatello and April's home. In all good faith, he would surely die a happy man.

"Sensei, would you like me to take your plate?" April asked, holding out her hand and politely waiting for the wizened rat to offer her his plate.

Smiling fondly at his newfound daughter-in-law, he handed her the frosting-smeared china plate and nodded in thanks. Every year, Michelangelo would claim access to the kitchen and whip everyone who celebrated with them a deliciously-baked birthday cake. Despite April's many offers to run to the store and buy them a cake, his youngest son would always protest, persistent on doing the baking as well as most of the cooking. Truth be told, Master Splinter much rather preferred it that way, especially after Michelangelo had calmed down when it came to experimenting and throwing ingredients together. Time and again, he would praise his son for his culinary talents, always looking forward to the stunning masterpieces that would coat his tongue and make his taste buds sore. This year's birthday cake truly surpassed his expectations and the wizened rat actually caught himself licking his lips while still remembering the taste of the made-from-scratch, rich butter cream frosting.

Irma truly was a very lucky lady.

"Once again, you've outdone yourself, Mike. Any more of that cake and I think I might just roll myself back to Casey's apartment." Raphael chuckled, reaching over and playfully rubbing his knuckles against his baby brother's head. "Shame the bonehead ain't here with us today."

"How's his mom doing, Raph?" April asked. "Any word from Casey ever since he drove into Northampton?"

Raphael shook his head before sitting back down and taking a swig from his beer. "Nah, which is probably a good sign. That old woman can run her mouth faster than a bat outta Hell. If Casey actually had the time to pull out his phone and call me, that'd mean Mrs. Jones is too sick to even speak. I'm sure she's got the kid running around taking care of her and maybe even grating on his very last nerves. So I'll let him wallow in his misery."

"Aren't you the ever-caring best friend," Irma retorted with a roll of her eyes. She hooked her arms around her husband's bicep, planting a gentle kiss on the side of his face. "The cake was delicious, honey. A job well done."

"Thank you, thank you all." Mikey beamed in the afterglow of his praise. "I'll remember to thank all you little people when they crown me as the winner on 'Top Chef'."

Don couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Please. I don't care how rich your chicken Crockpot casserole was, I don't think any of those judges would get past the whole mutant turtle thing."

Mikey flashed his brainiac brother a devious grin. "Your leading lady eventually got used to it."

Raphael snickered. "Yeah, bro. I'm sure you two crazy kids wouldn't have been able to bring Missy into this world had April not been accepting of the whole turtle thing. Emphasis on the word 'thing'."

"_Raph_!" April cringed, her cheeks flushed a bright burning crimson that only made the hothead and his younger brother chuckle.

Seeing the embarrassment wash over her friend's face, Irma immediately took action and lightly hit her giggling husband's arm while flashing him a stern gaze. "Highly inappropriate, you two."

"Hey, Donnie started it," Mikey pointed out, making the brainiac turtle flash him a rather exasperated glare.

Master Splinter chuckled lightly from the comfort of his armchair. Even at the mature age of thirty, his sons never ceased their playful teasing toward one another. Back in the day when they were merely teenagers, he always took it upon himself to immerse his mind in a deep, meditative trance in order to drown out the squabbling. However, in times of togetherness that he so rarely got to experience now that his sons all lived their separate lives, he couldn't help but engage himself in their lighthearted repartee, finding it not only amusing but bringing back rather fond memories. Oh the joys of raising four young boys. But no longer were they boys, but respectable, fine young gentlemen.

He felt a warm, calming hand drape the top of his shoulder, capturing his attention as he stared up into a pair of ocean blue eyes. Leonardo, his eldest, knelt down carefully while cradling a toddler in his arms, careful as to not stir the sleeping child awake while he talked to his father in a hushed whisper. "How are you feeling, father?"

"Rather tired, my son, but that is just these old bones talking," Master Splinter chuckled, lifting himself out of his easy chair with the support of his cane. "Are you leaving so soon, Leonardo?"

The eldest son nodded. "I have to take Tang Shen home and put her to bed. She gets really cranky when her sleep is interrupted."

"Much like how her mother was when she was an infant." The wizened rat smiled. The thought immediately draped a melancholic curtain separating the ninja master from his eldest son. He knew Leonardo struggled raising a three-year-old daughter all on his own, the loss of his beloved wife hitting hard whenever she was mentioned by any one of his family members. Nonetheless, Master Splinter saw no reason to keep the memories of his daughter, Miwa, tucked away and forgotten for he saw a glimmer of her every time he looked into his granddaughter's honey hazel eyes.

"She is growing quite fast, Leonardo," Master Splinter pointed out. He reached out a hand and gently brushed the loose strands of her jet black hair out of her face. Stirring just a tad and nuzzling her face in the crook of her father's arms, Tang Shen sighed contently and continued on her journey through slumberland.

Leonardo couldn't help but smile. "She loves when we come to these family gathers. Seeing her uncles and favorite _ji-chan _always puts her in a very happy mood."

"The feeling is mutual, my son," Master Splinter spoke. "I cherish these times I get to spend with you and your brothers. It warms my heart knowing I raised such a loving, caring family."

Before Leonardo could speak, he felt someone tugging at the sheath that held one of his katana, making him glance down to a pair of big, liquid brown eyes.

"Uncle Leo, are you leaving?" The young turtle hybrid asked almost dejectedly.

He bent down carefully so as not to awaken Tang Shen. "I promise I'll bring Tang Shen over to come play with you, Artemisia. Just remind your daddy so he can give your uncle Leo a call, okay?"

"Will you spend the night like you did last time, Uncle Leo?" Artemisia beamed brightly.

"Tell you what, next time I bring Tang Shen over to play, we'll all have a big sleepover and play lots of games! Does that sound fun?" Leo asked.

"Awesome!" Artemisia cried, immediately slapping a hand over her mouth once she remembered her little cousin was fast asleep. "I mean, awesome." She whispered only to be scooped up into her daddy's strong arms.

"What's so awesome, Missy?" Donatello asked, playfully rubbing his beak against his daughter's little green nose.

"Uncle Leo said we can have a sleepover at our house," Artemisia said proudly. "He said we can play games and he'll bring Tang Shen with him too. Won't that be fun, Daddy? You and Mommy can bring the snacks and Tang Shen can sleep in my room!"

Hearing his granddaughter rave on enthusiastically about the sleepover, Master Splinter rested his weight on the top of his cane, thinking back to the times when his sons were younger and would build forts in the middle of the living room. Every weekend, he would allow them to camp out in a setting that wasn't their rooms and every weekend, his sons would have a blast, huddling up together while sharing scary stories they pulled out clear from their imagination. Michelangelo was always the first to come running to his room screaming about how the monsters were going to get him and at times, Master Splinter would allow his youngest son to sleep beside him on his bed, cradling him in his arms until he drifted off into dreamland. Looking at his youngest son now, however, he couldn't believe how far both Michelangelo and the rest of his sons had come, growing into full-fledge men building families of their own and becoming father's one-by-one. It seemed like only yesterday he was a holding them in his arms, infant baby turtles who were barely learning how to walk.

Oh how times have changed.

"You ready to go, sensei?" Raphael asked. While his temperamental son was the only one without a female partner by his side, Master Splinter couldn't help but commemorate Raphael for taking control of his unmanageable temper. Memories of both Leonardo and Raphael at each other's throats were recollections the wizened rat tried not to let trickle in the sanctity of his mind. However, he was rather proud of the man Raphael came to be – a passionate warrior who still stood alongside the company of his brothers.

Since the day he became a father to his boys, the looming dark cloud of failure constantly hung above Master Splinter's head. Losing his only family to the Shredder was a devastating experience he wouldn't even wish on his enemies, suppressing him in a suspended state of mind, just waiting to cut the ties and watch him plummet in a spiraling downfall. He didn't think he would ever be cut out for parenthood after losing his daughter, yet fate gave him a second chance at raising a family and Master Splinter immediately shirked all the doubt and uncertainty flitting through his anxious brain. He knew just from the lively atmosphere that he had done well in raising his boys, building them up to be the men they were today, held by the bindings of their unbreakable brotherhood. And although he knew his time was coming soon, Master Splinter trusted that his sons would do a fine job carrying on his legacy, remembering him in good faith and cherishing those memories he would always cherish; even as he took his last, final breaths...


End file.
